


Top Dogs

by Fuzzi_Fox



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Comrades, Costlemark Tower (Final Fantasy XV), Daemons, F/M, Fluff, Nightmare Fuel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzzi_Fox/pseuds/Fuzzi_Fox
Summary: When Dave intercepts a Nifleheim message; Prompto, Ignis, and Aranea, brave Costlemark tower together to take out their greatest enemy.
Relationships: Aranea Highwind/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Radiklement](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiklement/gifts).



Prompto knocked hard on the door, a notebook tucked under his arm. He could hear some groaning from inside, as well as some cursing, and knocked again. Some shuffling, some footsteps, the lock clicking then finally the door opening. 

“Prompto? What are you doing?” Ignis asked, his voice gruff with sleep.

“What’s going on?” Aranea’s groggy voice called across the small room. 

“Oh hey Lady Aranea. Sorry to wake you but it’s important!” he called across. 

“Call me  _ Lady _ again and I’ll punch you so hard you’ll shit teeth for a month” she grumbled back to him, rolling onto her side and pulling the blankets up tight over herself. 

“Love, I do believe you made that threat last time he called you that.” Ignis replied. 

“Good point. Can’t leave empty threats. You have an hour to run skinny.” She groaned, “your only saving grace is how tired I am.”

“It’s important I swear and couldn’t wait until morning.” Prompto insisted, pulling the notebook out from under his arm and shoving it at Ignis. “The big-dicks themselves are going into Costlemark tonight. They think there’s some cool weapon in that tower of nightmare fuel. The doors will shut at dawn. We can kick their asses when they can’t get to their big ships and guns!” 

“How do you know this?” Ignis asked, opening the notebook and flipping through the pages covered in Prompto’s near-illegible writing. Not that his eyes could see it. 

“Dave was manning the radio and found the Nif frequency. They were using code but he went to wake up Biggs and Wedge who were able to break it. Idiots were using an older code!” He cheered. “Here, I’ll read it to you.” Prompto offered, reaching to grab the notebook back from Ignis unsure what caused him to hand it to the blind man in the first place. 

“Guess keeping a bunch of former  _ Nifs _ around wasn’t such a bad thing huh? Can’t wait to rub this in Gladiolus’s smarmy face. Guess you just earned yourself a pardon skinny.” Aranea called across the bedroom, the traces of sleep gone from her voice. She threw her blankets off to sit up on the edge of the bed, Prompto clearing his throat and trying to keep his eyes fixed upon the notebook since the dragoon had decided to sleep in nothing but a tank top and underwear. His arms were crossed, bouncing on his right foot as he tried to read aloud the transcription.

“If what they translated is right this is our big chance to wipe out some of the biggest names in the Niflheim army.” Ignis gaped when Prompto finished speaking, shaking his head. “Why risk so many?” he pondered. Prompto shifted over to his left leg and resumed his restless bouncing. 

“Buncha arrogant dudes all trying to be the one to get credit for whatever weapon they think is down there?” He offered with a shrug. 

“They aren’t  _ that _ stupid. We hate them but we can’t underestimate them.” Aranea disagreed. She vanished from the view of the doorway, and Prompto was able to bring his gaze back up to Ignis’s face and cease shifting his weight. “Likely whatever they think is down there is so heavy-duty it requires multiple people. Is it just the big assholes or a bunch of shitlets in tow too?” she asked, having only paid partial attention in her groggy state to Prompto’s reciting.

“I would expect trouble, but the impression I get from this is that they are only sending higher-ups. Must not trust underlings.” Ignis explained. 

“Distrust of underlings, maybe running out of money for other sexy mercenaries to replace me, maybe a failed attempt to keep this mission more secret. Who knows what they’re thinking.” Aranea added. 

“Either way we should gather people together to raid Costlemark.” Ignis suggested. 

“I think just a smaller party might be smarter.” Aranea disagreed, and appeared again coming up behind Ignis. She was now wearing denim pants and a tee-shirt, much to Prompto’s relief. He felt too invasive seeing his friend’s wife nearly naked. “We’re short on time and we’d have to go gather a bunch of people.” she shook her head. She ducked out of sight and returned as she fastened an old watch to her wrist. “Three hours until dawn. That’s just enough time to  _ get _ there nevermind get a bunch of people together. Give me that notebook so I know what we’re up against.” she wiggled her fingers, her arm reaching around Ignis to give him a half-hug while Prompto handed her the notebook.

“So. We should go get the car.” Aranea stated as she finished reading, crossing her arms in front of her. “Might have a minute to brew up some coffee.” She added after she pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle a yawn. 

“I’ll go get the car pulled up while you make said coffee?” Prompto suggested.

“I assume that the big guy is going to tag along? So we have that giant sword of his to cut everyone in half?” She asked. 

“No. He’s up north with Iris, Cor, and Monica.” Prompto explained. 

“Shit. So just the three of us?” Aranea asked, placing a hand on her hip. 

“Seems so.” Ignis answered. 

“We’ve faced worse odds.” Prompto offered with a shrug.

“Well go get the car. Only have a few hours until Costlemark closes for the morning. And raid the storage shed for a few MREs and water bottles to keep us fed in that creepy hall of nightmares.” Aranea rubbed at her face roughly and dropped her arms at her side as Prompto gave her a cheerful agreement and the door to their hotel room-turned-home closed. 

“Love. Did we just spontaneously agree to single-handedly take upon the task of murdering the Niflheim elite with merely the three of us?” he asked aloud. 

“An aging dragoon with arthritis, a blind man who moves around with echolocation like a bat, and a skinny blond man I could break in half by sneezing on him. What could go wrong?” She asked. 

“Ever my source of encouragement.” Ignis gave her a bow, lip twitching in a light smirk that spread into a genuine smile ss a giggle bubbled in his throat at her slap against his shoulder. 

“It’s our chance for some serious revenge.” 

“I concur.” Ignis righted himself, tugging at the hem of his shirt and brushing his front to smooth out imagined wrinkles. 

“Well we have a few minutes while he scrambles for the car.” Aranea started. The confused expression on Ignis’s face vanished when her lips clashed against his, her fingers wrapping around his wrist and bringing his hand up to her chest to press his palm against her bare breast. 

“What has sparked this?” He asked when she drew back from the kiss for air, bringing up his other hand to cup her left breast and duck back in to another kiss. Her hand brushed between his legs and moaned her approval of his reaction to her. 

“We have time for a quickie.” she stated with a shrug. 

“Am I that disappointingly quick?” Ignis asked, righting himself stiffly. She laughed, reaching out to slide her arms around his neck. 

“I would tease you but we both know I suck at lying to you. So it’s more like you’re so damn irresistible.” She guided him backwards towards the bed. His hands dropped slowly from her breasts, letting his fingertips trace her skin and the goosebumps on it before fumbling with his pant buckle, pushing his pants down listening to Aranea’s quicked breaths that she was unsuccessfully trying to control by breathing through her nose. Her fingers were pulling off the remainder of her own clothes. The mattress creaked, more shuffling of fabric. 

The impulse to remove his shirt and fold it neatly to place on the edge of the bed rose to mind, but the thought of Aranea lying naked on their bed panting with desire combined with the looming time limit had him climbing atop the bed. He crawled slowly, testing where he put his hands and knees before settling his full weight down. Her hand slipped between his legs and gave him a test stroke, humming her approval. 

“I’m not the only eager one.” She lifted herself to silence his answer with a kiss, then dropped herself back down. He reached between her legs, letting a finger slip inside her. She was clearly wanting, though he wished there was time for some proper foreplay. He followed her urgent tug, letting her guide him to her. A few thrusts and their hands were no longer needed, Aranea’s arms winding around his shoulders to pull him tight against her while his hips rolled against her. 

She moaned and sighed, murmuring his name in that damned way that drove him nuts and he quickened his pace, chasing that peak that felt just out of reach. He felt her tense, nails digging hard into his back, knees pressing hard against his side while she moaned his name, dropping back against the bed after several seconds. He wasn’t far behind her with a deep throaty grunt of his own. Ignis was withdrawing from her when the pounding came at their door, and he let out a hard breath at Prompto’s damnable timing.

“But a moment! I must dress in more than my sleep clothes!” Ignis called across the room, hoping he managed to cover his breathlessness with a level tone. Aranea was pressing a fist to the back of her mouth and giggling, the sound a delight to Ignis and he wished it was a sound she would make more. They were quick to cleanse themselves and dress. Ignis found his walking cane in its habitual spot next to his side of the bed, his thumb testing the small clip that let him draw out the rapier hidden within it. There were two tiny flasks as well, each containing a small amount of magic he had learned to imbue. The belt he chose contained extra loops for several more flasks that served as magic grenades. He sighed, patting at the flask, never able to equip them without recalling the fight in which he learned this mighty skill, and the friend he sorely missed fighting beside. 

“Hey.” Aranea’s hand came down on his shoulder and he flinched, righting himself. She frowned, lines appearing between her brow and the sides of her mouth. He reached up and pressed his hand over hers. He could feel the gloves she wore to wield her polearm and already knew which outfit she chose. She no longer opted for her ornate helmet, disliking the way it obscured her vision. Rather than wear her plate she was in cloth and leather, arguing that it made her both quieter and harder for Niflheim tech to detect her than if she came charging at them in full metal that would set their detectors screeching if it was indeed a weapon they were seeking. 

They both grabbed a backpack with their basic camping gear that was ever at the ready in case of events as such. Ignis’s pack filled with water filters, a small kit of salts and spices, and cooking kits. While Prompto had been asked to gather MREs it was unlikely these pre-packed meals would be available and it would be some dried meats, fish, flatbreads, and a limited selection of dehydrated vegetation. Lestallum had managed to establish gardens in many areas of the city, but the products were strictly rationed even for the soldiers that protected it. Meat was more rare, but artificial fishing ponds had been built by the city and were strictly maintained to keep the water clean meaning there was a steady supply of fish. 

“Taking the world’s biggest dump?” Prompto asked when the pair finally left the hotel room. 

“Must keep ourselves fresh for such a journey.” Ignis answered, and sorely hoped the problem of restroom needs would not complicate this quest.

“I grabbed the stuff you asked for. And managed to sneak a flask of booze so we can celebrate our victory!” Prompto cheered in a loud whisper. “Got the car running so it’s nice and warm.”

“That’s all the extra motivation I need.” Aranea shrugged. “C’mon sexy glasses, let’s get on the road.” She tilted her head towards the defunct elevator and the staircase beside it, the thought running through her head what would happen if anyone ever tried to steal the Regalia. And did  _ not _ want to ponder too hard on what Dave and Cor would have in store for said thief when they were inevitably caught; if the hoards of daemons didn’t get to them first. 

The car at first glance looked identical to their faithful companion that carried them throughout Lucis to find the Astrals. But various components had been changed or upgraded throughout the years. The headlights had been replaced with the strongest daemon-repelling lights ever manufactured pilfered from deep within balouve mines. One door had been repainted after a mess made by a bomb. The bumper had been modified with mithril to allow them to ram the majority of blighted wildlife and fully turned daemons that wandered into the road. Even the horn had been changed to more closely resemble the howl of a behemoth to frighten smaller animals. 

Ignis walked past the driver’s door, patting the car’s roof above it before sliding into the seat behind it. The trunk was filled with the provisions requested and Prompto’s backpack, the rest of their supplies were set into the back as well. They pulled away from Lestallum, and the blurred shaped lights that made up his limited vision vanished as the city was left behind and cast him fully into blackness. 

Prompto flicked the radio’s dial, nothing but the continuous hiss of static and he frowned, pushing the knob to power it down. Ignis leaned his head back against the seat, his leg bouncing in place while he drummed his fingers against the car’s door. Aranea turned in her seat, frowning when she saw the lines in Ignis’s brow. She dug in her pocket for her phone glad that she had thought to charge it while sleeping. She had a couple movies downloaded onto it for nights her and Ignis would try to pretend they were on a date while eating their final meal ration for the day. 

“Hey, sexy specs.” she called back to him, causing him to lift his brow at her and shift himself back upright. “Want me to wiggle back there with you?” She offered, wiggling her phone in the air the device making a subtle shifting noise in her palm as she moved it. The lines between his brow smoothed and reappeared at the corners of his lips, and she was sure that behind his darkened glasses the corners of his eyes would match. 

She managed to squeeze herself in the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats without kicking Prompto in the side of the head, wedging herself between Ignis and the pile of supplies. She settled beside him, resting her head against his shoulder and smiled when his arm wound around her waist, fingers lifting her shirt just enough for him to brush the skin just above the waistband of her pants. She thumbed the lock on her phone and brought up a movie to help fill the car with something but silence and darkness for Ignis. 

“You spoil me.” He told her, to which she turned her head to press a kiss just below his ear,

“I know.” She smirked, knowing damn well she picked one of his favorites. Prompto chuckled, agreeing with her movie selection to try and occupy their minds during the drive to Costlemark. “You’d think we’d spend this time, y’know, being  _ smart _ and coming up with a plan.” 

“Awe come on, thinking is for boring people! Be fun and spontaneous!” 

“Ever the logical of the group.” Ignis answered Prompto’s cheer. They tried to plan, but found their memory of the interior of the tower was spotty at best. The notebook was with them, and Aranea gave it a read aloud, momentarily pausing the movie, but it didn’t help them better think out their impulsive plan. 

“Just charging in like a Behemoth I guess.” Aranea settled, shifting her weight in the car to rest against Ignis’s arm again. The movie was shy of the credits, the trio having given up on attempting to be smarter about this, when they pulled off the road a mile from Costlemark tower. It took only a few minutes to get all the food, water, and equipment packed into the bags. 

“Oh man this is heavier than Gladiolus.” Prompto complained after hitching his up onto his back. 

“Beats realizing we’re dehydrated a day from now.’ Aranea shrugged, grunting as she lifted her own pack. She watched Ignis pick up his and bit the corner of her lip when he took a step to re-balance himself. They started the walk to Costlemark, stopping a few dozen yards away to analyze what they could make of the place Aranea was making frequent checks to the analogue watch on her wrist often accompanied with a tisk or a shake of her head. 

“Anyone guarding outside?” Ignis whispered to his left. He heard Aranea’s head swish followed by a low whispered  _ yes _ . 

“Two magitek. That’s it.” She explained. 

“That’s it?” Ignis asked, looking in the direction of her voice. 

“Probably trying not to draw attention with an entire airship stuffed full of them.” Aranea supplied with a shrug. “Or the same cockiness about pulling this off that caused them to chatter about it on the radio?”

“Think they can hear gunshots from in the tower?” Prompto asked, chewing on his lip and wiggling his fingers as he tried to gauge if he had ever accurately fired his pistols from so far away and with such poor lighting and let out a hard breath through his nose at his conclusion. 

“Should we risk it?” Aranea asked instead. 

“Even silenced these things are  _ really _ loud.” Prompto answered her. 

“How open is the layout?” Ignis asked in a low whisper. 

“Open.” Aranea whispered back, dropping her voice to match his volume. “Guns are probably the safer gamble. If they charged into that tower a few hours ago they probably can’t hear any shit going on at the surface.” She suggested. “How good a shot are you?”

“Need to get a little closer. Pretty far for my pistols.” Prompto answered. He summoned his pistols, holding one out to Aranea followed by a magazine pre-loaded with bullets and the silencer. Ignis listened to the various clicks before following the beckon of his wife and friend. They worked through the trees, Ignis following closely behind Aranea and nearly bumped into her when she halted suddenly. He managed to keep himself from making a sound, and instead crouched down. He tried to listen for sounds of further movement, but there was only the breathing from his companions. 

“Can you line up a good shot?” Aranea whispered, and a pause, then spoke again this time her voice slightly louder after he listened to her shifting her stance. “Cover those ears sexy.” She advised. He wasn’t sure what good his palms were going to do against the might of a pair of pistols and tried to mentally run through the contents of his pockets to provide better protection. He pressed his hands hard over his ears and squinted his eyes in anticipation of the pain that would accompany the tinnitus-inducing explosive bark of the weapons. 

The two shots were so closely timed that an inexperienced ear would not have been able to distinguish them. The sound echoed through the air and made Ignis recall many battles with Prompto firing at whatever was trying to claw its way through them; and wondered if silencers even did a damned thing, if they were on the guns at all. Ignis rubbed at his ears before dropping his arms. He felt a hard hand on his shoulder, fingertips digging into his skin and he brought his own up over the familiar feel of Aranea’s cool palm beneath his. 

“Glad I have my thick shirt on, lest I’d ask if you had submerged your hand in ice water.” He teased. He could tell by her chuckle she had expected the long-worn tease and graced him with her warm lips momentarily against his. “We properly screwed or this gamble pay off?”

“Seems like we rolled seven. C’mon.” 

“That was a good shot. Didn’t know you were a marksman.” Aranea shrugged and offered Prompto a sheepish grin biting back the reply that it was just dumb luck and she had actually been counting on Prompto making two rapid shots. 

“I’m just too damn good.” The crunch of dried leaves and dried broken twigs quieted to boots on dirt. Ignis tried to right himself feeling suddenly exposed. His heart rate increased and he tried to keep his breathing level to prevent himself from losing any other degree of his hearing that was helping him orient himself to his environment. The distinctive way he would tap his cane against the ground was not echoing back with any meaningful information outside the presence of his two companions. The tones of their quiet voices confirming they were exposed out in the open. Dirt became stone, and familiar closed space returned as the environment started to close back in around them, and finally fully enclose them as they stepped into the tower. 

“Oh man either of you just get super creeped out the moment we got in here?” Prompto asked with a slight quiver in his voice. 

“Made sure to wear my adult diaper in just such an event. Pretty sure my sexy glasses there is just too perfect to get creeped out so you can borrow his underwear when you soil yours and he can rock it commando. Promise there won’t be skidmarks.” She replied. 

“No one here to shoot us in the face so I think we did good blowing those MagiTeks to bits?” Prompto asked, squinting into the semi-darkness. There was an artificial blue light running through the stone of the tower that made his skin feel itchy to look at. 

“Time to go running in, do some cryptic puzzling because ancient Lucians were dicks, and shoot some Nifs in the face?” Prompto suggested. 

“The locations they chose for royal tombs was not clue enough?” Ignis asked back. The corner of his lip flinched as he couldn’t control the painful thought of where Noctis’s own tomb would be erected where his Engine Blade would never need to be summoned. But he pushed away the pain of his friend and tried to cling to the hope that he would return from that accursed crystal, preferably with the Oracle miraculously in tow to help chase away the blight and the growing night that seemed to be settling earlier and earlier each night like an eternal winter solstice so they could see what they were doing to shove said crystal up the Emperor's ass down in hell. 

“Well let’s get going because I might panic if I  _ see _ us get locked in here at  _ dawn. _ ” Prompto suggested, his voice high. Ignis hummed his agreement, and Aranea moved ahead to prod the chatterbox men into walking. The inside of the structure was deceptively large, and the name  _ tower _ was a misnomer. The place was more akin to an underground fort with only one visible spire from which it got its name. 

They crossed a stone bridge that crossed what they assumed was merely a gap of blackness the limited ambient light couldn’t make detail of. The air smelled humid and stale as they crossed it, a foul sulfurous odor clinging to the back of the tongue that had Prompto clicking his to try and clear the smell and taste from his sinuses until they walked away from the foul source, the trio refusing to let their imaginations provide possible sources of the rotting odor. 

Ignis winced and pressed a hand to the side of his head, feeling dizzy and needing several seconds to realize it was due to the subtle slope the path turned into. It wasn’t tilted enough to be noticeable until the fluids in his ears detected the abnormality and announced it by sending his equilibrium spinning. He cursed, needing to stop in place. He heard the footsteps of his companions halt, before Aranea’s strides closed the distance to him. 

“You okay?” She asked. He felt her palm against his cheek and nodded, knowing tilting his head against her palm would only make the dizziness worse. 

“The path is sloped.” He explained. Aranea looked down, and then at either side of the path they were walking. She couldn’t discern any change in degree but but gripped his free hand with hers and nodded at him. 

“It turns into stairs just a few more meters ahead.” She explained. “Why don’t we take a short break once we get to the steps so you can get your bearings?”

“I will endure.” He argued with a shake of his head. 

“We don’t need you to  _ endure, _ we need you in top-form to kick ass with those elemental grenades you learned.” She argued, squeezing his hand painfully hard. 

“I expect I lack choice in this offer for a pause?” 

“Right on. It’s almost like you know me or something.” She placed another kiss on his cheek. Her hand remained clamped within his own and she remained next to him until the damned slope leveled out as they walked down a set of stairs. “Nice wide area here. Sit.” She commanded. 

“ _Oh_ _no_ a break!” Prompto bemoaned, throwing his hands up dramatically and sitting down. “Well. On the good news front, the floor isn’t actually as wet as it looks. What do you say you break out a snack? Did you pack booze by any chance?” He asked. Aranea and Ignis sat down, the former pulling out a trio of meal bars. “Can we take a nap since none of us slept? Not sure I’m the best shot when I’m seeing double.” 

“We should keep going.” Aranea said, shaking her head. 

“Prompto does have a point. This tower runs deep, and it's likely the Empire will take its time to investigate what it thinks is down there. We should try to get some rest.”

“Ganging up on me?” Aranea asked, pushing against Ignis’s shoulder with her fist. 

“Seems we are.” 

“Sweet! Time to get my beauty sleep! As… best as I can sleep. On the ground” He grabbed his backpack and pushed against it until it resembled a shape he considered comfortable enough and laid down against it. Aranea did the same, Ignis lying his backpack beside hers and lying flat on his back. Aranea rolled onto her side, resting her head against his lower chest. 

“You’re more comfortable than a backpack full of junk anyway.” She mumbled and nuzzled her head against his chest, her fingers idly rubbing against his shirt. 

“Aww can we all get into a cuddle pile? You  _ do _ look more comfortable than this backpack. Are your cooking pots in this thing?” Prompto asked, sitting up and pushing against the backpack more. 

“Careful dragons are territorial animals.” Aranea lifted an arm and pointed a rigid finger at Prompto. 

“I thought that was like, all about shiny things. Collecting gold and stuff. Breathing fire.”

“Seems as though she  _ does _ breathe fire.” Ignis teased, reaching up and pinching his nose. 

“Hey! Well here I thought you  _ loved _ me.” She exaggerated a sigh, placing her palm against his face and pushing his head back. He laughed, infecting her and Prompto. The sound echoed off the walls of the open box shaped corner they were settled in. 

“I certainly do, your dragon  _ breath _ and all.” Ignis reassured, wrapping his arms around her. 

“I’m gonna sleep. But if you guys try making a dragon baby while I’m  _ right here _ that makes you guys super creepy.” Prompto pointed at them and turned up onto his side, grumbled to himself about how uncomfortable the stone ground was and lamenting how much he missed his bed. 

Ignis ran his hand along Aranea’s back. He grunted when she shifted her weight and released a hard breath when she found a comfortable position. She had her arm draped across his chest, the rest of her body pressed close to him. She was a welcome warmth against the stony chill of the tower. He wished they had thought to pack blankets, and briefly considered sitting up so he could drape his jacket over Aranea and himself. But she seemed to have found a comfortable position. A fact for which he envied her. Already a throb was starting in his lower back, and he shifted slightly to relieve the pressure but only succeeded in moving it. 

He closed his eyes, making no difference in the blackness around him. He stroked Aranea’s back hoping to find rest himself. He heard Prompto rolling back and forth, but that eventually stopped. Aranea’s breathing slowed. But sleep evaded him. His shoulders and hips began to ache from the prolonged period on his back and he lifted Aranea’s arm from his waist and tried to shift himself up slowly without disturbing her. She grumbled a bit and he paused. She rolled off his chest turning up onto her other side which allowed him to sit up. He groaned, hissing a breath as he flexed and extended his legs to try and ease his pain. 

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.” 

“Yeah this place is too creepy anyway. Would probably just have nightmares all… morning?” She yawned and sat up, groaning as she started rolling her shoulders. “Gods these have to be the worst rocks ever. The hell did the Lucians use to build this place.” 

“As you stated I believe they found a way to withdraw and concentrate pure nightmare and craft this material into an ultra-hard stone.” 

“Well blondie over there seems to be sleeping pretty damn peaceful.” She chuckled. Ignis had moved himself to sit upright with his back against the wall. Aranea sat herself next to him, pressing her head against his shoulder and smiled when his arm wrapped around her to pull her closer to him. 

“His head is even harder than this stone.”

“Ah. Explains a  _ lot _ . Well at least we get a moment of privacy.” 

“We  _ live _ together ‘Nea. All we get is alone time.” He felt her weight lift off him and he could picture the pout on her lip. He reached up and touched her face a moment before the pout vanished and she giggled. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

“I…” he started. His cheeks felt hot and he hoped the damned tower was as dark for the rest of them as it was for him. He felt a new warmth as she pressed her lips to his cheek and he turned his head. He pressed a hand against her cheek to orient himself while he tilted his head and kissed her. She smelled and tasted like morning breath, but continued the kiss nonetheless. 

“Trippy. Expected a loud childish  _ eww _ .” Aranea remarked, turning to glance at Prompto over her shoulder. She shrugged and sat up on her knees. “Well if neither of us can sleep may as well try to pass the time a little, huh?” 

“Suggestion?”

“Got my phone and the brains to download movies on it a few days ago.” She reached over and pat his chest. 

“Perhaps a fantasy, one about a dragon?” he suggested, then laughed when he felt her slap against his shoulder. 

“Just for that I should put on the Neverending Story.” Ignis snorted at the suggestion. “What? It meets your criteria. Fantasy, a dragon.”

“More of a sci-fi dystopia of a land scourged by excessive DNA manipulation culminating in a cross between a dog and a lizard.” A few months prior Aranea had been struggling with nightmares, and started routinely falling asleep to the same movie each night in an attempt to trick her brain into a sense of familiarity in hopes of chasing away the nightmares.Two months on and the habit seemed to be sticking.

“You still hum that song in your sleep.” 

“Is that why you kick me awake every other night? I mean, everyone jokes that a girl’s feet are freezing but you ever been kicked by  _ yours _ ? I’m the spawn of Ifrit by comparison.” Aranea said and settled back against Ignis’s side. 

“Your feet are cold merely because every BTU of body heat you produce rushes to your feet, your hands must be a graft from Shiva. Makes me curious if you actually qualify as a mammal.” Another swat at his shoulder had him laugh and he shifted his shoulders to try and get more comfortable against the cold stone wall. 

“Man, that makes you the weirdo into beastiality.” 

“You’ve known for some time now that I seem to have a thing for dragons.” 

“I should slap you for real. Or put on that dreaded movie. Not a bad idea actually… we might get some sleep.” She shrugged and settled herself against his arm. He shifted it prompting her to sit up. His arm came behind her back and tugged her back against him. Rather than taunt him further she flicked through her limited selection of downloaded movies and found a fantasy movie, though she couldn’t recall it having any dragons in it. 

Ignis’s fingers rolling down the side of her arm soothed her into relaxing against him, and she rested a palm against his lower thigh and rubbed circles against his pants. A quarter of the way into the movie and they tried lying back against the stone. Aranea sacrificing her hooded sweatshirt as a makeshift pillow. By movie’s end both had managed to fall asleep. 

Three hours of fitful sleep was all the trio managed before they woke up due to a variation of anxiety to keep moving, discomfort on the stone ground, and the unnatural sounds groaning through the ancient structure. A rapid meal of granola bars and water had them walking through the halls again. 

The change in elevation took time to notice, mostly Ignis’s moments of lost coordination clueing them in to the incline in the hallways that gave the illusion of being level. The deeper they descended the colder the air grew, and the louder the ambience became. The trio stood close together, Aranea and Ignis standing close enough for their hands to brush as they walked, the slope making it too jarring for Ignis to follow his impulse to reach out and hold her hand. Prompto walked on Ignis’s other side when the hallway was wide enough to allow, and a pace ahead when it didn’t. 

“Dude I don’t like this. Maybe we should have just set the place on fire and shoot everyone when they ran out.” Prompto said, slowing his pace causing Ignis to bump into him and stagger both of them off balance. Aranea reached out to steady Ignis, Prompto catching himself on the wall. He jerked his hand back away from the wall with a loud “blech!” rubbing his palm roughly against his pants and stared at the wall. 

“What the hell.” Aranea squinted at the wall, trying to see what had caused Prompto to react the way he did. She touched her fingertips to the wall and felt a sticky substance. She withdrew her fingers and saw something dark against her skin and made a disgusted sound before mirroring Prompto. “Just keep going.” 

They continued, hugging their upper arms and wondering how deep the tower ran to that  _ weapon _ that the Empire was after. The stale scent in the air began to grow foul, a metallic aftertaste lingered on the back of their tongues. 

“Oh holy shit!” Aranea stumbled away from the wall, collided with Ignis causing them both to crash to the ground. She rolled onto her back, kicking herself away from the wall cursing repeatedly until her back hit the other wall. Her back felt specks of damp and she screamed again, and threw her weight again. 

“What is it?” Ignis asked, his voice raised half an octave. Prompto’s own squeal and curse interrupted Aranea’s potential answer. 

“Blood! The wall is covered in it! What the hell!” Aranea answered, rubbing her hands against her pants again, rubbing against and again until her palms felt raw. 

“There are many stories of this place-”

“ _ Fresh _ blood Ig!  _ Fresh _ !” She interrupted. 

“Where did it come from? Is there a body?” 

“No… just… blood.” Prompto answered after he cleared his voice. 

“Uh…. I. I think I found the source.” Aranea whispered, an arm held out with a pointed finger. 

“Someone  _ please _ enlighten me to our current situation.” Ignis asked. His heart was racing, and he stayed seated on the ground not wanting to stand until he knew what was happening. 

“Daemon wall.” Prompto provided. “Looks like the Empire decided to drag  _ someone  _ down here with them… but umm…” he hesitated, swallowing hard to try and ease his constricted throat. A long smear along both sides of the wall joined in the darkness across them. What they originally thought was a sharp ninety-degree turn in the hallway was rather a dead end. At the base of the stone wall across them was a dark-red pulp, and from the stone itself was the upper body of a skeletal figure. Long thin arms ended in disproportionately large hands with elongated fingers with too many joints. Dark skin was pulled taught over robs, a crooked sternum separating the asymmetrical chest. The neck looked too thin to support the reptilian head that swayed back and forth. In one of its claws was pieces of what once was a part of the mass at the base of the door. Chunks of it seemed ready to fall off, held on by a thin strip of sinew. 

Ignis felt his breath catch. He’d heard of the things, read about them once, but doubted their existence. Aranea was still cursing from beside him, and Prompto started to hyperventilate. His rapid breathing was interrupted by gagging, then retching. The tangy smell of undigested food and bile assaulted his nose, and Ignis almost gagged himself. The cold air suddenly felt hot, his ears throbbing with his own pulse. 

“How do we get past this.” Aranea asked. 

“I think I know how the empire did it.” Prompto suggested, and retched again with a wet splash as an echo, stepping back to keep it from wetting his boots. Ignis grunted as he shifted his weight to stand up, his knees ached for a moment when he stood and turned to Aranea with an extended hand. 

“Kick its ass together.” He answered. He felt Aranea’s fingers wrap around his hand and braced himself to help her get to her feet. 

“Cool. Always wanted to die and leave a pretty corpse.” Prompto said. 

“From what I’ve read they’re always in dark cool places. Running into one here supports this hypothesis.” Ignis explained. 

“Your point being maybe we should not go for an evening stroll in old ruins straight from Cthulu’s nightmares?”

“Nah, not enough tentacles.” Aranea said. 

“Fire.” Ignis answered Prompto’s original question. He called up a magic grenade, feeling the heat in his hands. He lacked the natural abilities of the Lucian royals and the heat quickly built up into pain. He listened for the slight creaking of the daemon and hurled the grenade. He could feel the heat of the subsequent explosion against his exposed skin, causing him to bring his arm up to shield his face. 

The daemon wheezed, dropping the mass in its hand with a wet squelch. It agitated the pile below refreshing the air with the scent of old blood and new decay. The trio gagged, and tried to keep focus on the daemon through watery eyes. 

“I think you just pissed it off.” Prompto suggested in a strained voice. He wished he could use his guns, but was certain his friends appreciated still having their hearing and despite their indiscretion was sure a  _ gun _ would attract attention if their loud voices hadn’t already.

Aranea pulled out her polearm and extended it, taking advantage of the daemon wall’s wild thrashing to put out the flames on its papery skin. An acrid burnt flesh scent just added to the assault on their senses and she blinked away the sting in her eyes and swallowed hard to keep the threat of retching suppressed. Her polearm collapsed through the daemon wall’s skull with a sickening crunch. She leapt back and her hands slipped off her weapon as it stayed wedged in the daemon’s head. 

The trio stared at the abomination, thrashing its gangly limbs. Blood started oozing out of the wound in the top of its head, the wheezing noises that it made accompanied by clicking and groaning. It reached out and scratched at the floor, dragging the mess on the floor closer to its mouth and lifted a clawful into its mouth. 

“Oh Gods!” Prompto back-pedaled and nearly stumbled over the uneven stones.

“It’s regenerating.” Aranea gaped. “Fuckin burn it!” she barked. Ignis flinched at her sudden shout, and called another fire to his hands. He threw a grenade, trying to summon thunder in his other palm and hurled it. The daemon convulsed, a deep gagging cutting off its wheezing respirations. Bits of gore fell from its mouth back onto the floor. The twitching ceased, and Aranea rushed for her polearm but bone had knit around it holding it firmly in place. She vaulted back, and felt hot pain along the length of her left calf. This knocked her jump off-balance and she hit the ground with a hard grunt, the air knocked from her lungs. 

“You shall not  _ touch _ her!” Ignis’s voice boomed, echoing off the stone walls. Aranea felt the intense heat as she felt two more bursts of his grenades. The pain in her calf eased and Prompto grabbed her wrist to drag her away. Ignis cursed again and there was another explosion of heat, followed by another of thunder. 

“Ignis!” Aranea called, trying to get to her feet but pain flared in her leg and she realized her calf felt hot and wet. She looked down and saw three lacerations that ran down the length of her calf. She cursed, and got up with Prompto’s help and stood with her weight shifted to her good leg. Ignis looked mad, staggering back as he hurled grenade after grenade. One arm hung limb at the wall’s side, the flesh burned down to charred bone. Half the jaw had similar treatment and fire was eating away at the thin neck, causing it to struggle to hold its head up anymore. Through the peeling burnt skin the daemon wall’s neck Aranea saw their opening, and shouted Ignis’s name again. “The neck! You got the spine exposed!” she called. The wall seemed to understand her call and slammed its own head against the wall from which it was birthed, pressing its exposed spine so it was safety against the stone. She cursed, and felt helpless leaving the battle to Ignis. But her polearm was still sealed inside of its skull, and Prompto’s guns were useless.  _ Wait… _ “Ig! Throw me your daggers!” she called. Ignis didn’t hesitate, drawing the weapons and sliding them across the floor to the source of her voice. 

Ignis gasped for breath, his throat and chest burned as he panted desperately for air. His arms ached, and his palms felt as if he shoved them against a stove. But he called more grenades, throwing them at the wall. Determined to burn it until it was nothing but ash. The ache intensified, fatigue starting to overwhelm his body and drove him down to his knees. He called another grenade, the magic stuttering before heeding his call. He could feel it was smaller. Less intense.  _ Please _ . He prayed, to whatever would listen. He hurled it, and tried to call another. It stuttered, and he shook his head trying to gather his focus. He had to kill it. He had to destroy it. Erase the abomination. 

Aranea’s loud grunt jarred his thoughts and he jerked his head in the direction of her voice. She leapt passed him, holding the daggers in her hand and dove them deep into the exposed spine of the wall, wedging both of them in the space between the bones. She felt the blades grind against bone and it felt like she was trying to push against metal wire. She ran back as she saw the wall’s one valid arm lift, and gave it no time to lock the daggers by eating the remains of the Nifleheimer it had smeared on the walls. 

She jumped again, moved by pure adrenaline fighting through the pain. She jumped, and pushed off the handles of the daggers with all the strength she could muster. She felt them push through the wall’s spine, and impacted the wall behind her. The daemon wall went limp instantly, the wheezing respirations silenced. 

The three watched, panting for breath, for any sign that it was going to move again. Ignis tried to summon another grenade to scorch it for good measure but nothing answered his reach. He fell over, blinking slowly as his hearing was replaced by the sound of the ocean and static ran through his limbs before he drifted to unconsciousness moments after hearing Aranea call his name. 

***

Ignis came to and it felt as though his skull was going to be the next spawn point of a daemon wall. His eyes burned almost as bad as his palms. He flexed his fingers and realized they were wrapped in something. He groaned, trying to collect his senses and locate his friends by their voices or at least their breathing. 

“Welcome back sexy glasses! Decided to scare the shit out of me, huh?” Aranea was the first to notice his movements. Ignis felt her palm on his chest when he tried to sit up, “holy shit you just took down a daemon-wall pretty much single handedly. I think you earned a break. I’d give you a cigar and glass of whiskey if we had any.”

“More bad thinking on our part, not bringing booze. Because I seriously need some brain bleach after that.”

“When you find some make sure you share it skinny.” Aranea agreed. 

“We best keep moving.” Ignis interrupted them. “How long was I out?”

“Not long. Ten minutes? Enough for me to wrap up your burnt hands with shit from the first-aid kit.” Aranea explained. Ignis grumbled and nodded, wishing he had adequate control over the magic grenades to call ice to soothe his burnt skin but knew the only thing he would accomplish was giving himself mild frostbite and give himself and his companions hypothermia. 

“Are either of you injured?” He asked, searching his memory for any sounds that would have indicated such. 

“Yeah but I’ll live.” Aranea answered him. She had scraped together just enough gauze from the kit to cover the lacerations in her calf, wishing she had made a habit of packing a suture kit since by the time they reached camp it would be too late to close the wounds and they would likely leave deep purple scars and uneven skin. She closed the gap between her and Ignis, sitting beside him and reaching for his hand. “How ‘bout you? You kicked some major ass and passed out.” 

“Fainted like a victorian woman at the sight of blood?” Prompto suggested. Aranea snorted and gave Ignis a rough pat on the back.

“Would explain a lot.”

“I merely overtaxed myself and I feel better after a brief reprieve.” Ignis said back. 

“At least eat a granola bar and drink some water before we go running into the next batch of trouble.” Aranea said, holding out a palm and jerking her fingers in a  _ give it here _ gesture. Prompto reached over for her pack and tossed it to her and she rifled through it for a bar, unwrapping it and shoving it into Ignis’s hand so he couldn’t argue against eating the damn thing. 

“You both should eat as well.” 

“Last bars. So hopefully we’ll be out of this hell-hole in a few hours.” Aranea explained. They ate, drank, and packed up. Aranea tested the weight on her leg and cursed, knowing she would slow them down. She had already taken two pain killers from the nearly empty container that she always kept in her pack, offering two more to Ignis who declined. 

“The Nifs might have reached the weapon by now.” Ignis argued to try and get them moving quicker. They continued through the halls, walking down the center of the path avoiding touching the walls. The air grew colder still and after twenty minutes of walking all three were shivering. 

“I  _ really _ wish we remembered booze.” Aranea complained as the shivering intensified the pain in her leg. She tried to keep pace, limping and feeling her sock and boot soak with blood. They had used every provision inside of the first aid kid, and hoped that eventually the blood would clot beneath the bandage she wrapped around it. 

“Are you faring well?” Ignis asked, feeling their pace slow as he tried to stay beside Aranea. She nodded, then answered  _ yes _ . 

“How deep does this place go? And why was the daemon wall the only thing we’ve come across?” Prompto asked. 

“I wonder…” Ignis mused aloud, scratching the side of his jaw. He tried to recall the time they descended through costlemark but couldn’t recall encountering such a thing. Or the air becoming so cold. He brought his hands before his face and blew into them, and tucked them under his arms. “Perhaps the daemon-wall was guarding the pathway down to where this  _ weapon _ lies?” 

“Well now it guards my nightmares for all eternity.” Prompto quipped back. Another quarter-kilometer and Ignis’s expression wrinkled, trying to focus on a sound beyond the conversation between his companions. He threw out his arm to halt Aranea, who reached out to catch the back of Prompto’s shirt. “What-”

“Shh.” Ignis cut him off. He tried to focus on the sound again and was sure he was hearing voices . He pressed his finger to his lip and pointed in the direction of the sound. The hallway ahead of them continued and turned sharply as it had been doing for kilometers. Aranea nodded and started to advance, holding her hand up to keep Ignis and Prompto from following her. But it only took three steps for her to realize that her injured leg was not going to allow her to stealth up onto the Nifleheimers. She grit her teeth tight together and looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with Prompto before she tilted her head in the direction of the hallway. 

Prompto nodded and started to advance, inching forward and peering around the corner. He jerked back, twisting his upper body and shrugging at Aranea and Ignis and pointed around the corner with his thumb. He crept back to them and spoke in a low whisper. 

“The hall ends in a dead-end guys. But in the center of the wall is some glowing diamond. 

“How are we hearing their voices if the hall is a dead end?” Aranea asked. Ignis hummed and rubbed at his chin. His brow was furrowed and he started to drum his fingers against the side of his jaw. 

“Did you touch it?” Ignis asked. 

“Hell no! I’m not touching  _ anything _ in this hellscape. As soon as we get home, I’m showering until I have no skin left.” 

“It seems we have no other options.” He stood up, taking a step in the direction of the dead-end. Aranea came up beside him and Prompto followed behind. 

“Where is said glowing object?” Ignis asked. 

“Here,” Aranea reached out and touched it, jerking back at the sound of grinding stone. Ignis stepped back, and the trio cursed at the sudden sound. Dust fell from the ceiling and they cringed at how  _ loud _ the grinding stone was. Ignis wondered if this was the source of the groaning they had been hearing for much of their descent. 

“What is beyond?” Ignis asked when the grinding stone stopped. He tried to listen for a change in the voices of the Nifleheimers but they were too indistinct to decide if they had been heard. 

“Umm. Nothing.” Prompto answered. 

“Not nothing. A small cube-shaped room.” Aranea countered. Ignis stepped inside, and Aranea behind him. Prompto hesitated before stepping forward and yelped, forced back as the stone began to move again. 

“Guys?!” He called, realizing the wall was grinding closed. It felt like it was closing in slow motion, his eyes were glued on the floor where it was going to settle in place and bounced on his feet, the image of being crushed from far too many horror movies rang in the back of his mind causing him to hesitate just long enough for panic to arise at the mere thought of trying to roll under the closing door in time.

Ignis and Aranea were thrown off balance by the intense shaking from one door closing and the vibrations intensified by the loose walls around them, and they felt to Aranea as though her leg was caught in a thresher. She cursed loudly, Ignis dropping to his knees beside her. 

“Fuck! We’re locked in!” She barked, gripping her leg.

“It is too soon to panic.” Ignis tried to say in a level tone. 

“Panic?! My leg has been shredded, my boot full of blood, and now the  _ one with the guns _ is stuck on the other side of that wall!” She laid out their situation, hissing out a long breath with a fresh throb in her leg wounds. Ignis wanted to ask her to describe her wounds to him, but decided he would only fight one battle at a time. 

“Look around.” he said instead. She lifted her head and looked around noticing the four walls, floor, and ceiling were identical save for two walls with the glowing diamonds. 

“Two walls have that glowy thing. Speaking of. Why isn’t Prompto trying to open the door?” She asked, turning and looking at said wall. She could hear his voice, but not make out his words. 

“Is there a diamond on that wall?” Ignis asked. 

“No.” Aranea answered. “Why isn’t he hitting it on his side? Did a rock hit him on the head?” She asked. She tried to get herself to her feet, another hiss of breath at the pain, allowing Ignis to reach out and brace her. Once standing she was able to bear her weight and limp over to the door and pressed her palm against it. There was no diamond in the center, and she pressed her ear against it. “Skinny! Open the damn door!” she hollered. She listened, hearing his voice, but his words were distorted. “What is this stone made of?” she asked. 

“It seems ancient Lucians were… an interesting batch.” 

“Well remind me to punch Dave in the face on behalf of his ancestors. I don’t dare cross Cor, and  _ your  _ face is too sexy to punch.” 

“Allow me to obtain popcorn prior to this evening. Should provide solid entertainment.” Ignis said. Aranea laughed at his deadpan tone and tried shouting to Prompto again. 

“Hey! Speak up!” she tried. But the answer was still muffled. “Something must be stopping him from opening it from his side. What do we do?” she asked. 

“We must press on as the two of us it seems.” Ignis answered. 

“What about Prompto.” She asked. He paused, head tilted down. He didn’t like the idea of leaving him behind but any idea that came to his head was immediately dashed. Pound morse-code against the door, but none in the group knew it. Wait for Prompto to find a way through the door, but that risked giving the Niflheimers time to find what they were looking for. Find a way to slip a note through the cracks at the edges of the wall.  _ Don’t be stupid. _ He chided. 

“He is able to find his way back if he cannot find a way to follow us. We must press on.” Ignis answered Aranea when she repeated her question. His tone was low, a crack in his voice. Aranea came over, pressing her hand against his back. He turned to face her, and felt her warm palm against his face turning his head so he was looking at her. 

“Look, we’ll do this together. ‘Kay? Like we do everything. Kick ass like the amazing duo we are.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis flashed a smile at Aranea’s enthusiasm, and nodded at her. Her hand came to his other cheek tilting his head up. Her lips were dry but warm when she pressed them against his. He tilted his head, sighing and leaning into her. They lingered, prolonging the kiss for several seconds before withdrawing slowly. Aranea slid her hands past his cheeks and over his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. He pressed his face against the crook in her shoulder, and a deep selfish part of him wished that they had never intercepted that message and he was back home in their small room in their warm bed together. Where they would wake up in the morning to coffee and toast.

“Together.” He echoed her, pulling himself from his thoughts. If he had to be trapped in this cold damp tower at least he had her by his side. “So. Which door shall we attempt to open?” he asked her. 

“Hell if I know. Let’s pick this one.” She shrugged and walked to one of the doors and pressed her palm against it. The wall began to lift and with it the intense shaking again. She lifted her leg, bracing herself against Ignis to keep herself balanced and prevent another round of intense pain. 

They walked through the new opening to another cube with the diamonds on every side. They walked in and the door slammed shut behind them, causing Aranea to yelp. 

“Shit that’s gonna kill someone. Maybe that’s the point. I owe Dave  _ two _ slaps for them making a murder-maze inside their murder-tower.” She grumbled. 

“How is your leg faring?” Ignis asked, unable to restrain his concern. Her quick quip that she was fine did not come as a surprise, but he could hear the stagger in her gait and the way she would gasp or moan at certain times. He wished there was something he could do. Then it struck. “I can put my shirt in a corner and throw a blizzard grenade at it, for the least controlled ice pack in Eos. But it may help ease your pain.” He offered. 

“You’re not taking your shirt off in this place. It’s cold enough. I mean, as much as I’d love to see your sexy nips stand at attention while I just look at the glory of shirtless you, the shivering would start to make me feel guilty because believe it or not I  _ do _ occasionally show signs of having a soul.” she answered. 

“A light chill is a small sacrifice to pay if it will ease your pain.” 

“You’re just too selfless.” Aranea chuckled, placing both hands against his chest and patting her right hand against him. “But I’m not having you shivering like mad while I wrap an icy shirt around my leg until I’m shivering too. The sooner we get through this bullshit, go stabby-stabby against the Nifs, and get the hell out, the sooner I can sleep and put this leg on a pillow, the sooner I can flip off Cor when he comes to send me on my next mission. Now push a light and get ourselves even more screwed.”

They pushed through one wall at random and found themselves in another cube-shaped room. But this one only had the glowing diamond on the floor, and the ceiling above their heads. Aranea spun around, and frowned.

“Well. When I said get ourselves screwed I didn’t imagine it happening  _ this _ fast.”

“What problem has occurred? Aside from the voices of those we pursue growing louder.” Ignis replied. 

“Oh well  _ that’s _ peachy. I mean because our only door options are above our heads and below our feet.” She explained and saw the way Ignis’s face dropped and the color drained from his cheeks. 

“I shall venture I guess and say that above our heads is not the direction in which we should travel, considering the length of time we’ve spent going  _ down. _ ”

“Good guess. Hundred points.” She replied. She sighed, running her hands through her hair. Her fingers snagged on some tangles and she busied her hands for a few minutes trying to detangle her hair. “Question is, how do we do this without either of us getting hurt?” She asked. Ignis sighed, crossing his arms. He had jumped from short distances before but it was always painful if (inevitably  _ when _ ) he miscalculated the distance. 

“Should I break my legs, can I rely on my darling dragon to carry her bride back home?” he asked. 

“I mean you  _ are _ my treasure and dragons always liked to collect shiny things. So I think I can do that.” She grinned at him and placed a hand on his chest so she could press a kiss to his lips. He sighed against her, knowing they lacked time to waste but oh did he want to waste it with her. He leaned against her, his arms coming around her so he could press his palms between her shoulders and the small of her back to bring her closer to him. He had to lean slightly to deepen their kiss, his tongue running along her bottom lip until she parted and her tongue clashed against his. She moaned, pulling away only when she felt him standing back up. “Well what was that about?”

“If I am about to get myself killed jumping from this room I may as well have a pleasant last memory.” he answered. Aranea slapped his shoulder, her face souring. 

“Don’t talk like that. Look. We’ll press the button I’ll jump down first and call to you and help catch you. Sound good?”

“I lack a better plan.” He shrugged. Aranea drew back, Ignis’s arms sliding off her slowly and she knelt down and pressed her hand into the diamond on the floor. The vibrations hit as the floor started to move. The sharp pain it caused in her leg caused a sudden wave of lightheadedness and her stomach roiled with the realization that she was about to jump down three meters with her leg like this.  _ Just don’t black out.  _

“Over here.” Aranea called. She peered over the edge and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep nausea from advancing to vomiting. She sat on the edge of the moving wall with her legs dangling down, and knowing that Ignis was relying on her jumped down into the room below. She curled her bad leg under her and hit the ground with her good leg and threw herself to the side. She scrambled to her feet, cursing with the new pain and called up, looking to where Ignis had felt his way to the edge and was sitting like she had. “Jump! You only have like a meter left of wall!” she shouted. She could see the way his lip curled, and his brows came together with a thick line. And jumped. 

He collided with her with a heavy grunt from them both. Aranea tried to catch herself but her lacerated leg gave out from under her and they both crashed to the ground with another  _ oomph.  _ She hissed through her teeth, bending and flexing her leg with the shock that ran up to her hip and down to her toes. She tried to ask Ignis if he was okay but the wind had been knocked out of her when she fall backwards. 

“You all right?” He asked her in a strained tone.  _ Knocked the wind out of you too huh sexy glasses? _ She thought when her voice failed to say it out loud. She nodded at him and he backed away dusting off his shirt and tugging it to straighten imaginary wrinkles before getting to his feet and extending his hand. She reached up for it, gripping his hand tight but let go when she saw him wince. 

“I’m fine.” She finally managed in a wheezing voice. She coughed, and finally gasped in a long gulp of air. “Breathing.” Ignis held out his hand again but she got herself to her feet, pushing up with her good leg and managing not to lose her balance. “Your hands?” she asked. 

“Tender.” he admitted, dropping his arm to his side. She dusted off the seat of her pants and took a look at her injured leg. The blood stain was spreading, a detail she was going to keep to herself for now. 

“This place is…”

“Quite the curious construction.” Ignis offered during her pause. 

“I was gonna say fucked up.” She replied. “Why can we hear voices but not make out a word they say? One wall separated us from Prompto and we can’t understand each other and four rooms later and we can hear the Nifs but not their words. Can you still hear Prompto?” she asked, looking around as if she could see his voice. 

“I doubt he is still shouting to us.” Ignis answered. “We better carry on.” Aranea looked above their heads and wondered how the hell they were going to get out of this place and tried to file the thought away to be addressed later but the concern wasn’t so easily dismissed. 

“Well at least we’re back to the diamonds being on the walls not the damn floor and ceiling.” Aranea answered. One appeared to be slightly brighter than the other, though she couldn’t determine if it was just her own imagination, and decided to press on that one. The door slid open, and with Ignis beside her she limped the new room partway before grabbing Ignis by his collar and dragging him to the side. The new room was significantly larger than any of the cubes they had traveled through, and appeared to be held up by various pillars. But she had ducked back inside the more claustrophobic room, grabbing Ignis and jerking him into the corner with her. He staggered but caught his balance quickly. He pulled his daggers out from their sheaths and wondered if his hands could handle summoning magic grenades.  _ How did Noctis do it as much as he did? _ Ignis wondered and quickly banished the thought before the pain of memory could cloud his judgement. 

The Niflheimer voices had become quite distinct now and they were getting louder.  _ Shit!  _ She pulled her polearm and extended it, pressing her head to the wall so she could attempt to gaze around the corner. The door slid back closed a moment later and she cursed again as she lifted her leg.  _ How can I fight? I’m a dragoon with a useless leg. _ She ran a hand through her hair, trying to think. Their plan of sneaking up on the Niflheimers seemed to be a bust now. 

“Stand to the side. They’re likely to open this door to come investigate the wall.” Ignis suggested. 

“Through the other wall!” Aranea said suddenly, and pressed her palm against a diamond. Ignis hurried after her, and through the newly opened wall. It shut behind them a few moments later leaving them in another of the identical cube-shaped rooms. The voices were louder but again indistinct as they waited. Aranea could feel goosebumps roll down her arms and she gripped her polearm tighter. She looked over at Ignis, then at the wall they came through again waiting for it to open with an army on the other side. But it never opened and the room vibrated as a different wall opened in the other chamber, and closed again. 

“Shall we go back through again?” Ignis asked.

“We have to be ready to fight them pretty much immediately. They’ll hear that door open.” Aranea answered.

“What did the new room look like? It wasn’t echoing like the small cubes.” Aranea described what little she gathered. It seemed to be the end of the cube-puzzle, or at least a small part of it. It was a large room and she was able to glance what she thought was three or four pillars in the center of the room but her brief look wasn’t enough to ascertain adequate information. 

“Was there cover once in the room?” he asked. She shook her head,

“Didn’t look like it, we’ll have to charge in there guns blazing.”

“Suppose then, that it is fortunate our gunman was left behind.” 

“Right on.” Aranea nodded. “Okay let’s do this and hopefully only get shot once each. So we can have sexy matching scars. I’m jealous of that star-shaped sexiness ‘bout time i even things out.” She reached out and pressed her hand against the glowing diamond. The door lifted, and the small pack of Niflheimers was not as far as they were hoping. “Well shit.” Aranea cursed. 

“What is this?!” Verstael questioned. Aranea leapt into the air, pulling out her polearm. Ignis could distinguish the distance to Versteal from his voice and winced, summoning a thunder grenade and threw it in the direction of the voices. Midair, Aranea hadn’t expected the wild twitching and jerking of Ignis’s spell to knock Verstael back and as she landed with the man just out of reach. She threw her polearm, managing to impale his calf. 

“Fucker!” She shouted. She maintained her distance while the last of the muscle contractions petered out before she dared approach. “By the way, you owe me my final paycheck.” She glanced down at the wound her polarm caused, and realized that the arm was not imbedded very deep in his thigh. 

“Highwind.” He rasped. She grit her teeth together and reached forward to withdraw her weapon but Verstael was faster. He pulled the polearm from his leg with a grunt, and the dragoon leapt backwards to keep out of its reach. 

“Too much time around these Lucians… you forgot the superiority of Nifleheim armor.” He started getting to his feet, pushing the tip of her weapon into the stone floor to brace himself as he stood up. Two magitek soldiers remained crumbled on the ground, their hardware fried by Ignis’s spell. Caligo was groaning, slower to recover from the shock than his companion. 

“And who is this freak with the grenades. I thought the last of the Caelums was pulled into that crystal?” He grumbled, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Your age is catching up to you.” Verstael snapped, a lip curled. “Get up.” 

“‘Nea.” Ignis interrupted the banter and she was quick to step back towards him while he threw another thunder grenade just as it appeared within his palm. Caligo drew up his pistol but the shot went wide chipping into the stone behind the Lucians’ heads. Ignis reached for his daggers and threw them but Versteal had managed to avoid the worst of the grenade, and was able to dodge the thrown dagger. But the writhing Caligo was less lucky. 

“Shit.” Aranea cursed again. With her polearm still gripped by Versteal she felt useless as she again was forced to wait for Caligo to be done writhing lest risk electrocuting herself. “Ignis, Verstael.” She instructed. 

“Its hopeless Highwind.” Verstael said. He pulled a small metal ball off his belt and Aranea felt her stomach lurch and the color drain from her face. His expression wrinkled for a moment at the distant look on her face, and turned to look over his own shoulder.

“Nix that, Ignis,  _ run. _ ” She turned and grabbed his arm to jerk him back. Ignis tried to keep his hearing focused on Verstael’s shifting armor to aim a grenade, fatigue snaking through his limbs and causing a growing throb behind his eyes. Before he could throw his attack Aranean gripped his arm and pulled him off balance. He managed not to fall as he caught himself with a stagger to follow her momentum. He heard the grinding of stone and pulled harshly to his left. 

The smell in the air changed and Aranea’s voice echoed off the now tighter walls, while the Niflheimer’s grew tinny. He felt a vibration in the ground and grimaced, trying to gather his surroundings but a deep throbbing sound shook the stone beneath his feet. There was a half-cry that sounded as though from under water and the new vibrations grew louder as did the rapid cursing of his frantic wife. 

“Open faster godsdamnit!” 

“What’s happening?”

“We’re fucked thats what!”

“Expand on this degree of fucked?”

“Big fuckin’ daemon! Makes a Red Giant look like a damn cactuar!” Her palm slapped against the wall rapidly as she tried to urge the next door open but Verstael was rolling under the closing door and joined the Lucians in the small chamber. Aranea turned around and pat at her hip for her polearm but a large clawed hand slammed down onto the back of Verstael’s legs with a crunch. The claws wrapped around the ruined remains of his legs and dragged the screaming man back out of the room as the door finished rolling shut on the spreading pool of blood. 

Ignis’s imagination gave him several possibilities for what this combination of sounds had meant, each competing to be the one to cause the most nightmares to plague him for the rest of his life. Assuming he didn’t meet the same fate as Verstatel. 

“What?” He tried to ask in a high voice, swallowing hard to clear his dry throat and repeat his half-question. 

“Claw bigger than your body just turned Verstael’s legs into pudding then dragged him away. Can only assume he is  _ very _ dead. Safe to assume he found that weapon he was looking for.”

“I do suggest our best course of action may be to run.”

“Mission accomplished time to fuck off.” Aranea agreed with a nod. She slapped her hand again against the symbol on the wall, bouncing rapidly on her feet and tapping her polearm against the floor as the symbol  _ finally _ lit up as the previous wall clicked into place. They could hear grinding on the stone of the newly closed door, and a metallic groaning that echoed throughout the small chamber. The wall before Aranea finally opened high enough for her to urge Ignis to roll through first, and she was right behind him as the grinding stone turned into a loud cracking. 

She helped Ignis regain his balance as he stood and took her place next to him, her hand seeking his and squeezing tight a moment after she slapped the wall symbol, her other gripped her polearm and she watched the door before her shut. An intense shudder shook the room they were in as the metallic groaning and stone cracking were drowned by a thunderous boom. She backed away from the door and stared at it wide-eyed as her back met cold stone. 

“Do you see another symbol?” Ignis asked. Aranea was breathing rapidly beside him, her palm clammy and her fingernails digging into his skin. “‘Nea!” he barked. He could feel her flinch and draw a half-step away from him. 

“Yes.” She answered. “Never guess where.” She suggested. 

“Up?”

“Up.”

“Can you reach.”

“You forget how short I am?” the same grinding as before started, echoed by the whining of strained and broken metal. 

“Get on my shoulders.” He commanded. Aranea didn’t waste her time to argue with him as he shifted his stance. She got behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders, and on a three-count hoisted herself up onto his shoulders. He grunted with how her heels dug into his shoulders , gritting his teeth to try and focus on something other than the pain. He could make out this different grinding of the stone and the pain on his shoulders eased after a couple seconds leaving behind an echoing ache. 

“Grab my polearm.” He swung his hands about above him until his palms connected with her polearm and grabbed it. He was glad for the ornate design of the weapon and was able to climb onto it. Above him Aranea was grunting with the effort of keeping her grip, the pommel digging against her and her shoulders pulled hard and she wondered if she would dislocate them before she could pull Ignis up. She tried to pull to help him up but her limbs simply couldn't find the strength to unlock her joints to bend and pull. “Can you climb?” she asked in a high strained voice. Ignis had gotten himself onto it and reached up but couldn’t find any stone for his fingers to grab.

“How much further up?” he asked. Aranea’s panting and grunting, the groaning and whining structure, the rumbling shaking of the chamber, were all masking his ability to orient himself from echoes and pitches.

“Few inches” She tried again to unlock her elbows to pull on her weapon enough to give him that extra height to grip the lip of the upper chamber but failed. Her heart began to thud faster in her chest and wondered if it would have been better if she had forced Ignis up first. 

“It appears I lack options and must somehow jump.” Ignis suggested. The burning pain in her shoulders made Aranea wonder if she could maintain her grip any longer if she had to resist the force of him jumping. 

“Face me.” She tried to instruct, her breathing growing quicker as she looked below her. He was so close  _ so close _ to her that if only she could unlock her damn arms and  _ pull _ . She saw his knees bend, the rushing in her ears the only thing louder than the risking sounds around her. She cried out as Ignis jumped, her weapon wrenched from her grip and she wildly slapped her hands closed, managing to grip his wrist as he grabbed onto the lip of the opening. The change allowed Aranea to unlock her elbows, the movement a painful releif as she pulled.

She nearly lost her grip with another deafening  _ boom _ and the room below filled with dust and flying stone. Ignis felt heavier and his legs kicked when he cried out with stones hitting his legs. Dust obscured her vision and she coughed when it started to irritate her lungs. She pulled hard, unsure if she was making a difference or if Ignis was pulling himself up but he collapsed on top of her as he emerged through the hole. 

She scrambled to her feet, reminded of the injury in her leg with a dull ache like a distant memory. She pressed her hand against the first symbol she could find as a large clawed hand reached up into the closing hole. 

“Ignis!” her voice was shrill, sounding like that of a stranger. She reached down and pulled him towards her to keep his legs out of the reach of the probing fingers. The door in the floor was sliding shut but with another intense crash leaving a hole where the door once was and spidering cracks across the remaining stone. The wall behind her wasn’t opening now that the one in the floor had been completely destroyed.

“Press a door!” Ignis insisted and Aranea shook her head, 

“It ripped the damn door off! It can’t close so the next one won’t open!”

“Damn.” Ignis hissed, jutting his jaw and biting down on his bottom lip.  _ Think damn you. Think. You’re the tactician. The planner. The one who always knows how to get us out of a scrap. _ He was trying to map out this maze but was struggling to remember what turns they made and even the size of the room they were in. He made the assumption that it was the same size as the others. And thought about what this giant daemon could mean. It couldn’t have just manifested out of thin air down here like they did in the night above. More crashing sounds followed by more cracking.  _ The floor will collapse any moment. Think man! _ He tried to will his his heart to slow, to breath slower and ease the burning in his throat. He flexed his hands and knew his stamina was low. He wasn’t sure how many more elemental grenades he could summon. He blinked and pulled on the scar tissue, both his eyes ached and the pain was overtaking his head.  _ Think. _ The stone beneath him rumbled again and he shifted himself into a squat, hoping the inevitable fall wouldn’t break his legs. “How thick was this floor?” Ignis asked. 

“Thick, but not thick enough to stop this thing.”

“Numbers ‘Nea.” 

“Probably thirty centimeters.” She replied. 

“Get ready to fall. I’ll throw a fire grenade. Should have enough umph to finish off this floor. With any luck all this heavy stone will at least stun this beast.” He explained.

“Hopefully not us too.” Aranea replied. The arm reached up again and Ignis threw his grenade. It bounced in the chamber below and the daemon made a sound that made him immediately nauseous, like when Gladiolus would dial the bass up in the Regalia when he was driving. Heat flashed in the room with painful intensity. Shortly after the blast the weight beneath his feet gave way and he fell with the chaos of sound around him. His legs crumbled the moment he hit the ground, the painful shock rolling up his limbs and through his back. The pain hit him with an intensity that took his breath away, and he gasped for air and choked on the thick dust. His chest heaved to cough, but without a satisfactory inhale he only managed to spasm on the floor. His eyes ached, this throat burned. His senses were lost in the chaos of pain and sound. Through the roar in his ears he could hear Aranea’s voice and his chest constricted further.  _ Her leg _ he thought, and pictured her lying on the floor lost to pain as he was. 

But he felt a thin cool limb wrap beneath him and he contained the impulse to reach and strike out at the holder. Another sound set his stomach vibrating and he wondered if he was imagining that he was hearing it.

“Plan worked you sexy beast. If we make it out of here alive I’m fucking your brains out.” She chirped to him between hacking coughs. “Can you walk?” she asked. Ignis finally managed an inhale and fell into more coughing, triggering another spasm in his chest. “On my back.” She insisted, shifting him and he could feel her back against his chest. His face was pressed against her shoulder and helpless to adjust himself, writhing against her as his clouded panicked mind trind to think of words, any words, to reply to her. 

“Your leg.” he tried to argue

“I’ll live come on.” She staggered, mostly hopping on one leg, a few steps and shadows turned into details. 

Aranea could now see why the daemon filled her with such instinctual abject terror. It stood on four legs, but its forelimbs ended in humanoid hands with tooth-like claws at the end of each finger. Hindlegs with backwards joints like those of a wolf clicked snapped when it reared up to stand tall enough for its head to brush the ceiling. It stared at her with many faces. The first face was the long thin muzzle of a sabertusk, to its right bore the screaming face of a man. Below that of a weeping woman. Of a boy no older than twelve. Of two old men with sleepy expressions and the scarred face of a young man. On the other side was the face of Verstael locked in a soundless scream pressed against the half-face of an expressionless Caligo. Two magitek faces were as impassive as ever above those of the Nifleheimers. More faces wrapped around the thick neck, vanishing into the thick fur that coated the abomination’s torso. 

It stepped towards her, each face on its neck opening in silent screams. Something about the way the fur on its torso shifted made her feel unsettled, and she could feel bile burning the back of her throat. Wrinkles on its forehead opened to reveal a jumbled assembly of eyes, and its mouth had jagged teeth that didn’t seem to align with its own jaw. Its forked tongue seemed too big for its mouth and it lolled out like a purple steak, streaked with diseased veins of black. 

The sound it made, now clear in the large chamber, was thick and wet; the rumble was nearly out of the range of human hearing making Aranea feel like her stomach itself was shivering. Her chest rose and fell quickly and she could hear Ignis breathing too quickly next to her and she side-stepped until she could feel him against her arm. She tried to get herself to examine their surroundings and find an escape. 

The malignancy stepped towards her with a heavy unbalanced gait, and she grabbed Ignis to jerk him to the side. She ran and tried to duck behind one of the stone pillars and heard the heavy slamming that sent a shock through the stone that numbed the bottoms of her feet. 

“Where are we going?” Ignis asked in a voice that was too high, too quick. 

“Anywhere! I need two fucking meters so I can think!” She snapped back. The muscles in her jaw worked and she felt the aching tension in her neck. In the back corner she saw a change in the steady pattern of the stone walls and ran for it. It looked like an open door, and she wondered if this was where the empire had been working. 

Upon approach she saw that there were bits of metal and splatters of oil all around the entrance to this doorway. A half-door was left on the floor with small bits of stone and dust scattered about with shards of a glowing substance scattered amongst the rubble. She bit down hard on her bottom lip and jut her jaw, reaching out for Ignis again and released a long breath when her hand clamped around the sleeve of his jacket and made for this doorway too panicked to wonder where the hell it led. 

The sudden darkness was violently jarring and caused Aranea to stumble and fall as soon as she stepped through the threshold beyond the shattered door. Her tight grip on Ignis caused pain to flare in her shoulder and she heard him crash down next to her. She heard his grunt and he landed partially atop her, pinning her down to the floor. There, she felt no rumble, nor the sickening vibration in her stomach from the hellspawn that pursued them. She grunted, waiting for Ignis to pick himself up off of her.

“Run ‘Nea!” He demanded with a frantic shout, both his hands pulling on the front of her shirt and trying to pull her up to her feet. She tried to cast a glance over her shoulder, wondering when the death blow would come from behind her and instead was certain that death had instead managed to get in front of her. Ignis’s warning came a moment too late and she ran headlong into a cold wall. 

She fell back with a hard grunt, slapping both her hands over her face, her ears ringing. It took what felt like minutes for the daze to pass and Ignis’s voice to gain clarity and the panic to return. 

“We have to run.” She mumbled, the hands over her face felt damp, and she could taste blood when she licked her lip. She rubbed under her nose and tried to get to her feet but Ignis pushed her back down. 

“Its not chasing us. You need to settle.” He insisted. She followed his push and laid onto her back, but quickly righted herself when she swallowed and nearly gagged. 

“It’s not?” She asked, her voice sounding too low and nasally. 

“No. Are you all right?”

“Think I broke my damn nose.” She replied, wiping fresh blood away from the lower half of her face. 

“Here.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which she clumsily reached out to grab. She looked around and squinted, trying to discern anything about their surroundings but it was unnaturally dark. In spite of seeing the light of the chamber beyond the doorway, it didn’t penetrate beyond the threshold. 

“I… I think we’re in one of those sealing chambers. Where forever ago the people fucked by fate locked away daemons. Thought it was just propaganda. Is this what the empire was after? The hell did they think they were accomplishing?”

“Seems as though they did our job for us.” Ignis replied. He scooted closer to Araena and slid an arm around her waist to tug her closer to him. “Now to beg the question where to go from here.” He tried to listen for sounds outside the chamber and discern where the daemon was. But there was nothing but their own voices echoing off the walls of this room. 

“Well we’re stuck in here until hellspawn out there decides its bored and stops stalking.” Aranea replied, looking outside. She could see little more than the comparatively bright grey stone occasionally shadowed out by the hulking form of the daemon as it paced back and forth. 

Aranea’s left side grew warm, Ignis drawing closer to her and slipped an arm around her waist. She took in a deep breath with a shuddered exhale, resting her body weight against him. He rolled the edge of her shirt between his thumb and forefinger, resting his head against her. 

“What is it doing?” he asked her. 

“Just… pacing.” Aranea replied. He hummed and nodded. Ignis shifted his weight, and wiggled a finger in his ear. She could feel the movement against her, though she couldn’t quite see what he was doing. After a few seconds she turned to him, “Something wrong?”

“Too quiet.” Ignis replied. 

“This room is weird” she agreed. They nuzzled closer together, idly stroking each other’s exposed skin. Hours passed in the silent chamber, Aranea eventually lying on her back to rest her eyes from the stark brightness where the daemon continued to pace. She closed her eyes, the temperature of the room felt neutral and she started idly scratching at her arm and bouncing her leg. Ignis had his head nestled against her chest.

She wanted to talk to Ignis just for sound, or sit up and stare outside again in spite of the ache in her eyes merely for the sensory input. They were drifting in and out of talks, and at one point managed to drift in and out of a fitful sleep. 

“Are you a mite hungry?” Ignis asked, and she flinched at the sudden sound. She had assumed he was still sleeping.

“A  _ mite _ .” she replied. “Too bad our bags are somewhere out there in that shitstorm.” 

“It is entirely possible I may have idly placed a granola bar in my pocket.” Ignis said. She sat up, groaning at the stiffness in her lower back and her buttocks. The adrenaline in her system had fully worn off, and the pain in her ankle had returned with a vengeance. 

“Well shit, seems like we can enjoy a feast in this beautiful locale.” 

“That we can.” He chuckled. He grunted too as he sat up and pat at his legs and slipped into a pocket, and with a crickle removed one of their meal bars. He pulled open either side of the package to pop it open, slipping the bar out. He ran his thumbs around it to get a good gauge of the size, and with a degree of confidence pulled it in half. “I cut, you pick.” He offered. 

“The trick that will keep our future kids from killing each other when sharing?” she asked. She reached blindly out, tapping his wrist before finding his hand and taking the bar from it. She brought it to her mouth and took a bite while she listened to him chuckle at her. “Solid gourmet meal.” She declared. “Your finest yet.”

“None but the best for you love.” Ignis replied. He ate his own half meal bar, and tried to think his way out of this situation. Avoiding the doorway, he felt his way around the walls to sense any irregularity, unable to use sound to his benefit as it failed to bounce off the walls. The stone was smooth all around, Aranea coming to the same conclusion when she doubled over him. They sat against the back wall, trying to pass the time by talking. Aranea pulled out her phone, staring at the dead signal and sighed. She worried about Prompto, and wondered if he was sitting in that odd hall still wondering when they would return. 

The thought made her want to stand up and start to pace, but the pain in her ankle returned. She kicked off her boot, her toes feeling numb and when she touched the offended joint she could tell how swollen her foot was, and grimaced. Ignis was sitting against the wall still, but wondering how the hell they were going to get out was plaguing her mind and making her feel restless. The great beast was still pacing outside the doorway without pause, the walls of the chamber were smooth and featureless. She couldn’t fathom trying to outrun the beast to the destroyed puzzle halls.  _ Ignis will figure it out. He always does.  _ She pulled out her phone again, seeing the battery at seventy-one percent. 

“How about a movie?” she asked. 

“You have a signal?” He asked, moving to reach for his own device. 

“No but I always have a movie or two downloaded.” She shifted along the wall, taking a deep breath and letting out to try and center herself. He slipped an arm around her waist, and she tilted her head to rest against him. She had her foot elevated on her boot and her rolled up jacket, assuring Ignis that she was as okay as she was going to be. His fingers brushed under the hem of her shirt and she tried to take comfort in the touch. She tapped one of the two movies and started playing it. 

The two movies had been watched twice, and just before the credits of the second movie’s rewatch the battery died. She sighed, leaning against the wall and stared up into the blackness before turning her attention back to the doorway She watched the shadow cross by. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. She joined in Ignis’s attempt to recollect a movie scene-for-scene to pass the time as she watched the pacing. Panic had left, and she simply fetl neutral, for the moment. She knew the panic and helplessness would come back. 

Left. Right. They had gotten halfway through the movie they were trying to recollect when they stopped. They both just stopped speaking, rather than consciously deciding to stop. Her stomach rumbled, prompting Ignis to pull out their last meal bar that they once again divided. She felt tired, but couldn’t sleep. She tried at one point. Her head on Ignis’s lap, his own head resting back against the wall. His hand idly ran through her hair, and she could tell he wasn’t falling asleep either. 

Back at the doorway, left. Right. Left… she waited for the shadow, wondering if her sense of time was getting distorted or its unbroken pattern was finally changing. She started counting aloud, to make sure it wasn’t simply her own mind halting time. Four… Five… Six… After getting near twenty she grew curious. Perhaps it was sleeping, and they could push her polearm through its…  _ something _ vital. She shifted her weight, making Ignis grunt. He cleared his throat and she got to her feet, limping and hopping on her good foot towards the doorway. 

“‘Nea?”

“Its not pacing. I think this is our chance.” When she got to the doorway she hesitated. She was still behind the threshold, bad leg lifted up and leaning against the inside of the doorway to try to see where it was, but it was outside her field of view. She took a deep breath, pulling out her polearm and looked once more for its shadow before stepping out, and finally saw why it had stopped pacing. 

Across the large room, where her and Ignis had fled the puzzle rooms were several men fighting the grand beast. The sudden noise from emerging from the sealing chamber caused her to stagger back into the silent room, where Ignis was calling her name. 

“People are fighting it!” she explained to him, running her pinky finger in her ear. She stepped out of the room again after hearing Ignis’s steps start to rush towards her. He slowed once he ran several paces, his hands out before him to find the doorway and join her outside. Like her, the sudden noise startled him and he stepped back, hitting the corner of the doorway and hissing at the pain in his back. He collided with the edge of the doorway and jolted forward. 

“Whoa, careful.” She helped steady him, grimacing at how disoriented he must be. Her eyes hurt stepping back outside, and wondered who the blurry figures fighting the enormous daemon were. Her first few steps she stumbled, legs partially numb and her ass sore from sitting on the stone floor for so many hours. Her polearm was drawn and she joined the frey, adrenaline tunneling and focusing her vision. 

“Aranea!” A familiar voice barked out before his guns echoed him. 

“Prompto?!” 

“I brought-” he paused, firing a shot and ducking away allowing another man to shove a long polearm into the new wound, a third hacking the blood soaked leg as the daemon tried to stagger away. Four more men were behind it hacking at its swinging arms. Two men were lying motionless on the ground. Two more men were to Prompto’s right, one bearing an axe another with a gun of his own. The daemon was soaked with blood, the scent of it filling the air mingling with gunpowder. “I brought friends!” Prompto cheered, bouncing back and forth on his feet as the daemon staggered back. “Well, gonna help?”

“Hell yeah!” she cheered. She leapt, feeling sudden sharp pain but rose high into the air, heart racing with adrenaline and the pain faded nearly immediately. She held her polearm below her, shoving it deep into the gap between two of the wailing faces on the right of its neck. The sound it made was thick and wet, a hiss coming from the wound and she jerked her weapon back with a squelch and a splash of red and black fluid. She dove away from it, landing on her feet. 

“Ignis!”

“Prompto!” Ignis cheered. He had his daggers out, but could hear the number of voices and hesitated to throw them, having trouble telling where everyone was. The fight was a blur of weapons and the deafening bark of guns. The daemon swung, roared, wailed, and tried to kick. But the multiple wounds were weakening it. It staggered, splashing in a pool of its own blood, letting out a low whine. Many of the faces coating it seemed to have blank stares. Some were still screaming, others were missing chunks and more still were obscured by blood and sinew. 

Eventually, it fell forward with a final whine, and was stil.. Aranea’s polearm had gotten stuck between the bones of its shoulder joint, the other lancer’s own was wedged between two ribs. Prompto had run out of bullets, and the axeman’s axe had been broken from its handle. One of the men with a sword had joined the two unmoving men, but everyone’s focus was still on the daemon. Adrenaline faded, and pain suddenly flared in Aranea’s leg and she fell to her knees, cursing and and shifting onto her buttocks. 

“‘Nea?”

“My ankle remembered its broken.” she grunted. “But the more important question is that.” She pointed at the daemon. 

“Is it dead…” The rifleman asked. 

“Fucker was never alive. Did it crawl back up Ifrit’s asshole where it crawled out of after a night of week-old chili?” Aranea asked. It was a few seconds before the rifleman dared to approach and poked at its neck. Blood, bile, and black fluid oozed out of its mouth. 

“Speaking of dead things. Where are the dudes we came here to punch?” Prompto asked. Aranea looked around, but couldn’t find any remnant of their corpses. 

“There,” she pointed at the daemon’s torso. Prompto clucked, and made a retching noise before turning to the three unconscious men. One was barely breathing; one was dead, half his head caved in leaving a mess of blood, bone, and brain matter coating the pillar he had been smashed into.. The rifleman agreed to carry his body back to the surface for a burial. The axeman left his destroyed weapon behind so he could carry the second man. The third was regaining consciousness as they prepared to leave, and was able to stand with the support of one of the sword-bearing hunters. 

“So did you guys find what we came here for?” Prompto asked, his voice lacking his usual energy as he stared at the aftermath of their battle. 

“Verstael and Caligo.” Aranea replied. 

“Holy shit! Top dogs!” Prompto cheered. 

“How the hell did you get down here?” Aranea asked. 

“Oh we just blew up every single door in that freaky puzzle hall. How did you guys not hear or feel any of this?!”

“Umm. Let’s explain on the way back out. I want to get the hell out of here.” Aranea answered. 

“Couldn’t agree more.” Ignis added. Aranea winced with a gasp when she tried to bear weight on her own, Prompto frowning at her. 

“Man that daemon wall really messed you up, huh? C’mon let me help you out. Good old piggy back!” He spun around to show her his back and twisted his arm to pat his lower back. 

“I can walk.” she tried to protest, but after a few limping steps grumbled a reluctant agreement to be carried. Prompto stooped and she climbed onto his back, hooking her arms around his neck. Prompto grabbed her legs and started to walk. As they followed the hunter out of the room Ignis talked about the sensory-deprived chamber that had been used to seal the daemon that they had just fought. As they walked, Aranea observed the fallen rocks that they had to climb over from the destruction wrought by the hunters as they blew their way through Costlemark. It felt a miracle that the tower still stood. 

“How long were we in there?” Aranea asked. 

“Dunno, wasn’t with you. But once I left the tower by the time we got back there with the hunters the tower was closed so we had to chill ‘till night so we could go back in.

“Oh hell. What time is it? Will we get out of this place before it locks us in again?” Arana asked, curling her nose. 

“Uhh not sure. But pretty sure the door isn’t closed.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Magic optimism?” Prompto offered. Ignis snickered and Aranea rolled her eyes. But his optimism proved right, and they were able to leave the tower with hours to spare. There was a truck parked close to the door with several dents over the entire thing, the hood not quite fitting right and one of the windows was plastic wrap duct-taped in place. A side-view mirror was missing, and so was the fender and two hub caps. 

“You all came here in that thing?” Arana asked. But her question was cut off when a man leapt out of the car, and she recognized him. “And Pan too?”

“Oh man am I glad to see you guys!” he cheered, kicking open the passenger door with a heavy creak, the pickup rocking as he jumped out of it. “This whole place is freaky. Even the daemons won’t come near it.” He thumbed over his shoulder and gestured at the two iron giants pacing on the road accompanied by several bombs. 

“Gods just strike me down.” Aranea groaned seeing them, dropping her forehead against Prompto’s shoulder. 

“Go lie in the truck you guys deserve to friggin’ rest. Its just some Iron Giants we got this.” Prompto replied. He stood straight to let Aranea slide off his back, Ignis stepping up and finding his place beside her to hook an arm around her waist. She watched the hunters lay the dead man in the back of the truck, and the two injured men beside him. She frowned, agreeing instead to stand guard at the tailgate with Ignis.

“Backup. I like it.” Prompto agreed, and rushed off to catch up with the three who were clearing the road while Pan struggled to get the truck to wake up. She held her polearm, leaning most of her weight against the truck. 

“Gods I’m tired.” She admitted. 

“Me too.” Ignis agreed. 

“We should be helping.” She half-heartedly suggested, yawning after a half breath. 

“We’ve done our part.” Ignis countered immediately. He reached out for her, feeling her and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him and rest his face against her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck. 

“None of that. I’m too tired and its too public.” Aranea rolled her shoulder to get him to move, but he only tightened his embrace and wrapping the other arm around her too. 

“Your mind is firmly planted deep within those terrible  _ romance _ novels Gladiolus reads. My intentions are purely innocent. I’m quite tired and you are quite comfortable.”

“Well I guess I can put up with it then.” she answered, placing her hands over his. She disliked simply watching as others fought, and almost wished that an errant bomb would get past them so she could make herself useful. But the four fighters finished everything off without assistance, and came back to the truck. 

It was crowded in the bed of the truck, Pan and two of the hunters squeezed into the truck’s cabin and the axeman sitting in the bed with Prompto, Ignis, Aranea, and the two injured men. There was no space to give the third body room, and no blanket with which to cover him. But the axeman removed his shirt to place over his face. The attempt at dignity only made the group feel worse, and they spent the entire drive in long silence. 

Aranea could feel sleep begging her to answer its call. She was sitting on the floor of the truck near the tailgate, Ignis adjacent to her and insisting that she rest her leg on his to elevate it. His legs were also tangled with Prompto who sat across from him, the three other men’s feet touching their legs. The axeman sat on the edge of the truck bed, no room on the floor for him but insisting that he was fine. 

The road was bumpy, the long years without repairs or paving leaving potholes that Pan was forced to swerve around, jostling everyone in the truck and nearly throwing the axeman off. Aranea lolled her head back, staring up at the sky wishing she could see the stars. When the eternal night first befell them at first she could take solace in staring at the stars. But as the years passed those too began to blink out. She sighed, shifted uncomfortably, and blinked her eyes slow and heavy. 

_ “‘Nea.”  _ Aranea flinched, Ignis gripping her shoulder heard. “Whoa. Careful. I did not intent to give you a fright. We are finally back.” He explained. She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. She leaned to her side, and slapped her hands out to catch herself. Her heart raced and she felt fully awake, expecting to lean against the tailgate and forgot that it was behind her. She mumbled and shifted her weight, sitting up just as Pan dropped the tailgate. 

Everyone clambered out, the injured and the dead man taken away. Everyone kept asking her and Ignis if they were all right, which she answered with the same  _ yes _ as she struggled with her usual sarcasm. She pressed her fist to her mouth and yawned, sliding out of the truck and balancing herself on her good leg when a sharp pain that shot up her entire leg reminded her about her broken ankle. . 

“Umm want me to bring you to the medic?” Prompto asked. 

“They’ll be busy with worse than me. It’s just an ankle I’ll handle it myself.” Aranea replied, daydreaming again of her bed. 

“I’ll walk you guys back then. But I still think you should see the medic.” Prompto offered. 

“Such a gentleman. I’ll wrap it when I get back and depending how it looks in the morning I’ll see the medic. Fair?” Aranea answered. 

“I’ll hold you to that!” Prompto replied, poking her in the center of her chest getting his hand slapped for it. “Touchy!”

“No-touchy.” She mumbled back. 

“What time is it?” Ignis interrupted, his voice muffled by a yawn. 

“Umm. Five twenty-one.”

“That all? I feel quite refreshed and ready to start my day.” Ignis replied, “A brief breakfast and you’re ready to meet up with Dave for today’s tasks? Cup of coffee and we shall be right as rain.”

“We are sleeping if I have to tie you to the damn bed.” Aranea replied. 

“Okay human backpack, up!” Prompto commanded, spinning around and slapping his lower back again. Aranea grumbled, but shifted herself upright and allowed Prompto to lift her onto his back. They walked to their room, their conversation a blur and her brain refusing to log it into memory. Her door was the most welcoming thing she had seen in months, and when she slid off of Prompto’s back she almost forgot about the pain in her ankle. Ignis slid an arm around her waist to support her, bidding Prompto goodnight.

“Sure you don’t want an invigorating jog?” He asked. 

“Fuck off.” Aranea replied with a wave. Prompto chuckled and started to walk off back to his own room. Ignis fumbled with the door assisting them both inside. 

“I got it from here.” Aranea insisted. Ignis nodded and let go of her waist, knowing better than to argue. He followed the same pattern over to their bed while she clicked the lock into place before bracing herself against the congested furniture to help herself over to the bed. She slid out of her clothes, grimacing at the thick clots sticking to her foot and the wet feeling as she slid her boot away. She was well aware of how gross she felt, but the idea of showering almost made her fall asleep on the floor. A simple request and Ignis had brought her a basin of hot water and a wash cloth, which she quickly used to wash her wounds and left the state of them something to worry about in the morning. She wrapped a crude bandage and slid into her bed, giving her shower the middle finger though knew it would be her best friend when she woke back up. Her head hit the pillow. 

A knock drew her attention and she ground her teeth together hard enough to make her jaw ache. She turned onto her side and groaned, but the knock repeated. She gave the door a middle finger and slammed her pillow over her head, but the knocking started up again and just continued. She threw her pillow off her head, sitting up straight. 

“Shall I murder whomever is at our door?” Ignis offered. 

“Nah, got this.” Aranea replied. She slid off the bed, hopping over to the door and threw it open, finally ending the damn knocking. 

“There you are. Finally awake huh?” Dave asked, standing there with his arms crossed. “You’re late for morning rounds.” Aranea jut her jaw, held up a final middle finger, and slammed the door. 


End file.
